A Little Less Than Awful
by ADisplayOfPatience
Summary: In which Isaac has repressed memories of child sexual abuse. Not graphic, but still intense and about a very serious subject. Good to read if your feeling really angsty and want to vicariously emote through the anguish of our favorite troubled werewolf. Warning: contains harsh language and mentions of sexual abuse.
1. A Little Less Than Awful

**Author's Note**: Took a break from Flicker to write this cuz I've been feeling particularly angsty these past few days. It's about Isaac having repressed memories about the sexual abuse he suffered as a child. If you're looking for something gory and descriptive, this is _not_ that story so look somewhere else. That's not to say that this is easy to read though. The long italicize section is one of Isaac's memories and the ellipses are to show a change in subject or passage of time. **Lastly**: If you are in an abusive situation whether its sexual, emotional, or physical, please get help. Tell someone. The quickest way to recover is with the help and support of someone who cares. And people _do_ care.

...

**A Little Less Than Awful**

...

Isaac was in the locker room.

Morning practice had ended and he had just finished taking a shower.

Coach had made them run suicides for the last 30 minutes because he was convinced that since he wasn't going to be there for practice after school, they were going to slack off.

The suicides had gotten everyone winded and the locker room seemed void of its usual noise with everyone out of breath.

Well, _almost_ everyone.

"Am I seriously the only person here who was in danger of dying because of their lack of sexual experience?"

Isaac laughed to himself as he watched Stiles flail his arms in Scott's face.

Isaac had always thought Stiles looked like a virgin.

"Aw come on! Someone else in here has to still have their v-card. I refuse to believe I'm alone in this."

Stiles invited the whole locker room in on his conversation.

But if anyone else in there was a virgin, they didn't have the guts to say so.

Then again, they might have just been avoiding Stiles.

He was a pretty weird kid.

Stiles looked at Isaac.

"Oh, there is no way that _Isaac's_ gotten more action than me."

Isaac heard his own heart jump.

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had only a towel on.

His sexual experience (or lack there of) was not something he really talked about...or thought much about either. It was an awkward topic to focus on.

He did _not_ want to become the subject of this little chat.

So he tried to play it cool.

"Sorry Stiles." He gave him an apologetic smile and went back to changing feeling unusually uncomfortable in his skin. It was weird, feeling so body shy after all this time. He hadn't been ashamed to show his body in the locker room since his father had died and his scars had faded. Actually, he'd been kinda proud of his new physique. Training with Derek had been painful, but his hard work definitely showed.

He hastily slipped on his boxers, pants and a t shirt, shoving his gym clothes in his bag.

He wanted to get out fast. He was starting to feel a little sick and he didn't know why.

The rest of the day was boring like he'd expected.

When his dad was alive, Isaac had had motivation to do well in school.

It was either "get the A" or "get the belt". And anything below a C was freezer worthy.

Now that he was gone, Isaac finally had all the freedom in the world when it came to slacking on his studies and he was spent most of his classes asleep nowadays.

Today was no exception.

He was in French for a full five minutes before he had nodded off.

He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about, but he figured he must have been talking in his sleep or making noises because when he did wake up, people were staring at him. Most of them sniggering.

He sat up, embarrassed, and noticed a small puddle where his head had been.

Great. He went to wipe the drool that he expected to be on his chin, but found it dry.

He reached a hand to his face.

Oh _shit_.

He had been crying. The pool on his desk wasn't drool it was tears.

So pathetic.

He couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming about that had gotten him to this point, but he figured that was probably for the best.

Isaac was embarrassed by the tears, but not too shocked. He knew this was just something that happened sometimes when he slept. He didn't know _why_.

He just knew that sometimes he woke up crying.

It was shameful really.

He remembered one time when his father had come home to find him asleep at the kitchen table, sprawled out on his homework. His father had woken him up with a kick asking,"Are you _crying_!?" And he was surprised to find that he was.

His father hadn't let him live it down.

He called him a pussy for weeks after that and of course _began_ this torture with a trip to the basement.

He looked at the clock, counting the minutes until French was over.

It was his last period of the day and he was looking forward to lacrosse practice after school.

Coach Finstock was having some kind of surgery (he had gotten too enthusiastic during one of his lectures and wrecked his lower back) and would be gone for the rest of the week and depending on how well it went, part of the next week as well. He was having one of his friends who used to coach with him 'back in the good old days' take over while he was gone.

Isaac was excited, and he knew The rest of the team was too. Usually when coach was absent, they got a lot less lectures and rants and a lot more game time in.

The final bell rang and the class emptied quickly.

Unfortunately, Ms. Morell stopped Isaac before he could leave.

"Isaac."

"Yeah?" Isaac prepared himself for yelling. He knew she hated when people slept through her class.

"Are you okay? "

Well that was unexpected.

"What? I mean,Yes, but Why?"

"I was just wondering. I noticed you sleep a lot in this class and today I thought I saw you...getting emotional?"

Isaac wanted to roll his eyes, but stopped himself.

Sure, _now_ teachers noticed him.

Come to school with a black eye or broken wrist everyday and no one says a word, but put on a leather Jacket and shed a few tears in the back of the class and everyone wanted a piece of your sob story.

"It's fine. My eyes just water a lot when I'm really tired."

This was the excuse he'd always supplied when someone caught him crying in his sleep. With the correct delivery, it worked pretty well.

"Okay," she didn't look as convinced as he hoped she'd be, "you know where my office is if you need something."

Isaac nodded, making his way toward the door, thankful that this awkward encounter was coming to an end.

"And Isaac."

He turned.

"Don't let me catch you sleeping in class again. I won't be so understanding next time."

Isaac heard the warning, but didn't really care. A couple lunch detentions weren't going to kill him.

...

When he got to the lacrosse field and finished gearing up, he sized up the substitute coach.

He was a big guy; a lot more fit and put together than Finstock. He was bald, but it looked to be the 'voluntary shave your head kind', not the 'male pattern baldness' kind. Isaac thought he would have looked pretty intimidating if not for the wire glasses and huge smile on his face.

He waved when he saw Isaac looking.

Isaac's face reddened under his helmet.

Smooth.

He probably looked like an idiot and they hadn't even started practice yet.

The new guy blew his whistle and had everyone line up in front of him. He went down the line, having everyone introduce themselves with their last name and jersey number. He started first, telling them to call him Coach Paul instead of Coach Jennings saying he thought his last name sounded a bit too feminine for his liking. When it got to Isaac, he stepped forward and gave his name like everyone else.

Coach Paul squinted, his smile widening.

"Lahey, huh? Like Brian Lahey?"

"Yeah, he was my dad."

"No kidding," Paul laughed shortly,"You don't remember me? Your dad and I were good friends for a while. I knew you and your brother when you were still in grammar school! Isaac, right?"

Isaac nodded, frowning under his helmet. He tried to wrack his brain for memories of this guy or his name, but none came.

He had liked this guy initially, but he wasn't sure now. He had a tendency to dislike anyone who had been friends with his dad, but Paul had said he had only known him when Isaac was in elementary school. His father had always been a fan of corporal punishment, but it hadn't been until Isaac got to Middle school, when his mom wasn't there anymore to hold him back, that it started to become unbearable. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad?

"I just heard about your dad, kid. I'm sorry to hear it. I hope your mothers not taking it too hard. Poor woman. How is she?"

Isaac shifted. This was going to be awkward.

"She's um...she's not with us anymore...either."

Isaac could hear the whispers from his team mates.

The coach slapped his head looking more apologetic than humiliated.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry!"

There was an awful silence which was probably only seconds, but felt like years.

Isaac hated this. He could feel everyone's eyes burning into his back:pitying him.

"So, Who's taking care of you and your brother if you don't mind me asking?"

Isaac did mind him asking. This was a pretty personal subject.

He answered though, too awkward to tell him how he really felt.

"Well...actually, Camden's ...gone too. It's just me."

The whispering was louder this time.

"Jesus Christ!" Isaac Heard the Coach's hissed swear, but doubted anyone other than Scott had.

"It's okay really. I'm shacking up with a friend. I'm good."

Isaac hated that part. Reassuring other people how everything was going to be okay. No one had ever done it for him, but here he was making sure other people didn't feel to out of place just because of his bad luck in life.

"Aw shit. I'm sorry kid."

Isaac thought the awkwardness had ended but he was horribly mistaken.

Just then Coach Paul decided it was perfectly acceptable to give him the worlds longest hug: in front of the whole team.

Well, he definitely wasn't going to be making any new friends on the lacrosse team this year.

He waited for Paul to pull away, but when it seemed that wasn't going to happen, he took it upon himself to pull back first.

Isaac stepped back in line, avoiding the stares of the teammates he'd accidentally spilled his life story to.

After introductions, the practice became sufficiently less uncomfortable and Isaac was able to channel the frustration he'd built up into his defense.

He was still relieved when practice ended though.

He headed straight for the showers but was interrupted by Paul placing a hand on is shoulder.

"Hey listen," Isaac didn't like how close the coach was to his face, but he was at least thankful that he was trying to keep this conversation private, "I'm really sorry for bringing up all that stuff about your family okay? I honestly had no idea. I just moved back here this school year so I hadn't seen your dad in years so it was news to me that he had other two must have passed while I was in Georgia?"

Isaac didn't want to talk about this. He tried not to let it show on his face.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep bringing it up. It's just...wow. Life happens fast ya know?"

Isaac could agree to that at least.

"Anyway, I just wanted to give you an offer. I know you said you were staying with a friend, but I wanted to open my doors to you. I wrote down my address here for you. It's not the same house that you probably...well...I guess you were too young to remember that anyway, but here you go. Just stop by if you need anything, alright champ?"

Isaac stuck the card in his pocket, doubting he'd find use for it, and made his way to the showers.

...

He arrived at Derek's late. He had picked up an extra shift at the graveyard.

He needed the cash for lunches.

He opened the door expecting to find an angry Derek, but was greeted by nothing.

The apartment was empty.

He sighed.

Derek liked to take these 'leaves of absence' sometimes without telling anyone.

It was his way of saying he needed space.

Isaac didn't like being alone, but he guessed there was no way to avoid it sometimes.

_Yes there is_

A voice in the back of his mind corrected him, reminding him of the card that Coach Paul had given him.

He took it out and considered going, but decided he wouldn't.

He didn't want to walk in the dark if he didn't have to so he'd stick it out alone. At least for tonight anyway.

...

The next day was as boring as the last.

The only difference being that Isaac woke up late and missed his first class.

He came in late for chemistry and was predictably handed a detention slip from Mr. Harris.

It wasn't often that Isaac agreed on something with Stiles, but this was undeniable: That guy was a tool.

He stayed awake for French today which was awful and boring because French was awful and boring. He was also a little annoyed that he'd have to spend time in detention before practice.

He walked straight to Harris' room after the last bell. As he approached he stopped though. He could hear voices inside.

He focused a little harder shutting his eyes and could hear Coach Paul talking to Harris.

"The kids had a tough year. He'll he's had a rough life! I think you can give him a break just this once. Everyone has it rough some mornings."

Mr. Harris wasn't sympathetic.

"He has had a tough is why I'm going to odd him a favor and keep this detention."

"Harris, I _need_ him at practice."

"That's great, but I _need_ him here. He has to learn that his actions have consequences."

"He's had enough consequences! Come on. How much?"

Isaac could hear the bills in Coach Paul's wallet rustle as he leafed through them.

"Mr. Jennings, put that away. I'm not going to-"

"$200?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I need him at practice."

"No."

"$400."

"You've gotta be kidding me! You're just a substitute! You'll be gone by the end of next week!"

"Fine!That's not enough?"

Issac heard furniture squeaking, moving and heard Harris's heartbeat quicken.

"Let the kid out, or I'll do it. Don't think I won't."

"What the hell, Paul?" sounded terrified.

Isaac wanted to know what was happening, but didn't dare look through the door panel.

finally gave in with a panicked, "Okay, okay, calm down! Please!"

Isaac couldn't wait any longer.

He walked in.

"Hey . I'm here for detention."

Isaac saw them put distance between each other in a clumsy, hasty way.

Shit. Paul wasn't screwing around.

"Good news sport!"

Paul clapped him on the back, leaving his arm draped across it.

Isaac hunched his shoulders instinctively. It wasn't that he didn't like Paul, he just wasn't really used to "touchy-feely" kind of people.

"Harris and I had a chat, and we've decided: He's got better places to be and you've got better things to do. No Detention."

Isaac looked up at Paul and put on his best acting face.

"Woah, really? Thanks Coach, Mr. Harris."

He sounded sincere enough that they both had no suspicions of him. Isaac couldn't see much in Harris' face at all besides extreme annoyance and a slight fear in his eyes.

Paul lead the way out of the classroom and into the locker room which was empty except for a few kids hangin out. Most of the kids were already on the field ready to play.

Paul sat down on the bench inbetween the rows of lockers.

Isaac waited for him to leave or say something, but he just sat there, looking everywhere but at him.

Isaac didn't want to stand there looking stupid so he took off his shirt, beginning to change. He turned his back towards the coach while he slipped off his pants trying to retain a little privacy.

The coach whistled in a tone of surprise and Isaac turned his head confused.

"What?" He asked over his shoulders looking into the wide eyes of his new coach.

"Sorry sport, just surprised. You were such a scrawny kid that its just kind of a shock to see you all buffed up. I mean, you were always covered with scrapes and bruises and all skin and bones. Now you're all like...Bam!"

Paul gestured with his hands, throwing them on either side of him as if Isaac was something to showcase.

Isaac stiffened under the scrutiny of his new coach.

He still forgot sometimes how flawless his skin was now that he was a werewolf. He wondered if his teammates were as curious about his lack of bruises and scrapes too. It must have been weird to go from always seeing him banged up to his skin radiating health.

"Yeah i was pretty awkward looking as a kid: tall and thin and always falling down. My brother and I used to go dirt biking all the time when we were little. I wasn't very good at holding on."

He feigned a laugh to help make his lie seem more believable. Technically, he and his brother did dirt- bike a lot in their younger years. But thats not where he got the scrapes and bruises.

"Boys. Always reckless."

Paul stood up and straightened his clothes out.

"You gotta learn to be careful, Isaac."

The coach rested a hand on Isaac's back for a short amount of time, letting that last sentence sink in, before sliding it off and walking out to the field.

...

Practice went by quickly.

They worked on techniques and strategies for the first 45 minutes, then put what they learned to use through scrimmages for the second 45.

Isaac was doing well.

He'd scored 4 goals with the help of Scott and Boyd.

It had been pretty easy to outrun the other team with three werewolves on their side.

Everyone was patting him on the back telling him 'good game' by the end of practice. It had been a good game. Isaac allowed himself to feel a little pride.

He puffed his chest out a little and even dared to smirk when Jackson walked by, pissed that his team had lost.

"Hoo! You got some kind of rivalry with that guy or what?"

Isaac was startled when the coach walked up behind him, rustling his hair as he laughed.

Isaac would have minded the gesture a bit more, but he was still feelin high from his success in practice.

"You could say that I guess." Isaac ducked out from under the Coach's hand and made his way to the locker room saying, "Thanks coach, see you tomorrow."

...

Isaac was done changing and was in the process of putting his shoes on when Paul came back in the locker room and sat down on the bench next to him.

"Isaac?"

"Yeah Coach?" Isaac answered, looking at his shoe while he brought it up on the bench in front of him to tie the laces.

"I want you to come have dinner with me and my family."

Isaac stayed looking down at his foot. He didn't want to look him in the eye when he rejected him.

"I dunno coach. I appreciate the offer, but... I'm all set. My friend is-"

"Isaac," Paul put a hand on Isaac's knee and angled his face to look into Isaac's eyes.

"I did some asking around and I heard that this friend of yours is _Derek Hale_."

Isaac looked at Paul's face finally. It was riddled with concern. Isaac didn't know how to feel about that. He wasn't used to adults digging into his home life. More often then not, they tried their best to ignore any signs of worry.

"That guy isn't exactly the safest guy to be around, ya know? I've heard some...troubling things about him. He's got a record."

Isaac stood up. Eager to escape this interrogation.

"I know he's not the best influence, but he really helped me out these past few months. I owe it to him to stick around."

That was true. Isaac felt indebted to Derek. And Derek needed a pack so...

"Well," Paul stood up too," you don't have to stay the night if you don't want to, but we'd love to have you for dinner some time. Our doors are open."

Isaac felt guilty for not taking up the Coach's offer. Was he being ungrateful?

Probably. His dad had always said that he had a bad habit of not appreciating what he was given.

So Isaac turned back to Paul and said,"Thanks, I'll think about it."

...

Isaac was hoping to earn some extra money today with more overtime, but his boss kicked him out early, saying he 'had a wife and kids to get home to.'

Isaac fingered the card still in his jacket pocket.

His head hurt. It was weird that the coach wanted to help, right?

His whole life he hadn't known a single adult who was willing to help without some hidden personal agenda. Why should Paul be any different?

He zipped his jacket pocket closed and headed home.

Maybe he could ask Derek what he thought of the whole thing?

Unfortunately, when Isaac stepped outside the elevator doors that lead to Derek's loft, he could feel he was alone in the house.

Apparently Derek still needed his space.

Isaac trudged further into the house.

He'd wait an hour, he decided. If Derek didn't show up by then, he would see if he could navigate the streets a bit and find where the Jennings lived.

...

Half an hour later there was no Derek, so Isaac left early,feeling a little jaded and very much hungry. Derek had left without leaving behind groceries.

Isaac snorted to himself. He was almost seventeen, he should be taking care of himself by now anyway.

He should stop whining.

The walk to Paul's address was long taking almost a full hour. Isaac reached the house right when the sun started disappearing.

A friendly reminder that winter was coming.

He approached the door, tentative, and knocked: no answer.

Isaac could see there were lights on in the house so he knocked again, louder this time.

This time he heard a dog barking from inside the house, and the quiet shuffle of socked feet.

The door opened in front of him to reveal a little girl about 9.

Isaac was startled into silence, expecting Paul to have answered the door, not this small child.

Awkwardly he raised a hand and waved, trying to smile.

The girl took a step back and he heard her heart flutter.

She was scared.

Isaac mentally smacked himself.

It was probably his eyebrows. They moved on their own when he was stressed or nervous.

He was saved before having to actually make conversation, when Coach P waltzed in to the doorway to shake Isaac's hand.

"Come on in Isaac! Dinners just about ready!"

The little girl seemed to be less afraid now that she new he was Dad-approved.

She still stared at him with big eyes though as they made their way to the Dining room.

There was a woman setting the table with the help of a little boy who looked about twelve, Isaac guessed by the dejected scowl on his face.

Isaac didn't blame him. Twelve truly was an awful age.

The woman was far from scowling though.

Isaac thought she was beautiful. Not in a 'MILF' way, but in an, 'I want her to like me and I never want to see her frown' kind of way.

"Isaac, this is my wife, Nora."

Isaac smiled and shook Mrs. Jennings' hand while Paul continued.

"I met her and her son, Jason, down in Georgia, the first week I moved in actually. A month later we married and then Jenna popped into the picture and now we're a family and in California and we love it, right kids?"

Paul told Jason and Jenna to say hello and they did, a little reluctantly, but they did.

"We'll, we're glad to have ya here Isaac! Pick any seat you want. Tonight's taco night so I hope you brought your appetite! I make a mean taco so I hope you dont mind spicy and delicious food 'cause I'm afraid thats all you're gonna find here tonight! Do you want anything to drink, sweetie?"

Isaac was a little shocked at how fast Mrs. Jennings talked. Her accent was a lot lighter than he expected and she didn't have any of that 'southern drawl' he'd heard was always associated with the south. Actually she rambled off words so fast, it took Isaac a minute to comprehend everything she' said.

"Um...waters fine...thank you."

Isaac stood awkwardly for a few seconds before choosing the end chair. He didn't want to accidentally take anyone's usual seat.

No one seemed bothered when he sat down which relieved Isaac. He didn't want to be a burden.

Paul sat down to the left of him and Paul's daughter sat to the left of Paul.

Jason sat across from Jenna, leaving an empty chair between him and Isaac.

Mrs. Jennings reappeared with a glass of water for Isaac and took her seat at the opposite end of the table. Isaac went for a sip when he realized everyone was staring at him expectantly.

They were all holding hands to pray before eating.

Isaac was now very thankful that neither of the kids had sat to his right. He was sure that holding hands with him was not something either of the Jennings' kids wanted to do.

It was uncomfortable though, not knowing how to say grace, but feeling obligated to hold hands and murmur along.

Coach must have sensed his uneasiness because he gave Isaac a reassuring squeeze before letting go of his hand and digging in.

...

Dinner was hectic.

Mrs. Jennings had set out different bowls with taco toppings all cross the table.

She had passed everyone a tortilla slice to start with, then told them to just 'go for it'.

Isaac was a little shy at first, not wanting to have to ask people to pass him the different toppings, but Paul seemed to sense that and was happy to help out, asking Isaac what he wanted, then vocalizing it for him.

Isaac was grateful for this. He could get pretty shy around new people so Paul doing this was a great help.

Eventually the chaos diminished as everyone finished making their tacos and got ready to eat.

After a few bites, a steady dinner chat began.

There were a lot of questions, but none of them about his family which Isaac was very happy about. Mainly, the subject stayed to school and sports. Easy things to patter on about.

Isaac had been answering so many questions that he still hadn't been able to drink his water and had only barely begun to eat his taco.

Mrs. Jennings noticed this as well, apologizing.

"Oh, I'm sorry Hun! You just keep on eatin and we can talk amongst ourselves now. That's it, don't be shy about it. There's no graceful way to eat a taco so there's not trouble if ya spill, just get to eatin now."

Paul's wife changed targets to Jason who had a list of complaints about his day.

Isaac wondered how she had already finished her food when she had been talking practically this whole time. Sometimes, he swore moms were just magical.

He took another few bites of his taco before it started falling out the other end and he gave up, putting it down on his plate. He was too awkward to keep eating it, but he wasn't really all that hungry anymore so he wasnt too upset. He just hoped Mrs. Jennings didn't think he was being rude.

He turned his attention to the table talk. He was surprisingly interested in everything the kids had to say. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd talked to a kid younger than his own age.

He was listening to Jenna enthusiastically explain how she had found a note from a fairy in her dresser this morning when he felt something brush the outside of his leg.

He jumped a little in his seat.

"You okay sweetie?" Mrs. Jennings turned her attention to him.

Isaac calmed himself back down, looking for what had bumped into him.

"Yeah, sorry...um...I just felt something-"

He was interrupted by a bark coming from behind him.

Paul's wife laughed heartily, "Oh I'm sorry honey. Windsor likes to hang out under the table during dinner sometimes. He can get so quiet that you forget he's there! I'm guessing you don't have any pets, hmm?"

"No I uh... don't. Sorry." Isaac had forgotten about the dog and felt foolish for jumping. What else was it going to be, the boogeyman?

Isaac wanted to keep his head down, stare at his plate and turn invisible, but Nora kept talking to him.

"Yeah, I can tell you aren't used to having a dog around. He seems to like you though. He's not usually this friendly to newcomers!"

They all chuckled a bit at this.

Isaac was about to relax finally, when he felt something tapping his knee.

He looked at Paul assuming he was trying to get his attention, but Paul's gaze was fixed on his wife. He didn't even notice Isaac's stare.

The tapping continued though and Isaac began to worry. He wasn't making this up, right? No, there was definitely something tapping his knee.

It had to be Paul, but why?

Isaac decided it was probably some unconscious habit or something and ignored it. Paul would notice eventually and stop, right?

Isaac was beginning to doubt that idea as Nora spoke up again and the tapping moved to right above his knee.

"Does your friend have a pet or anything? I'm impressed by how easily Windsor took to you. Sometimes the smell of other animals can be comforting to dogs."

Isaac wanted to move his leg away, but would that be rude?

Maybe he was just overreacting. It was just his knee.

He just wasn't used to people touching him.

He kept his leg still as he responded, "Well, we don't have pets, but I guess you could say that I kind of work with ...animals...often."

Isaac was having trouble keeping the confusion out of his face, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh! Do you work with Dr. Deaton? We take Windsor there for his check ups!"

Nora was excited.

"Not exactly..." Isaac was beginning to answer when the tapping on his leg moved up further and evolved into fingertips being dragged across his thigh, outer to inner.

Isaac threw a confused look at Paul, but he was playing with his daughter, poking her nose while she giggled. His other hand was underneath the table though so it had to be him, right? He wasn't imagining this!

"Hmm?" Nora was waiting or him to explain still.

Isaac tried again to mask his confusion as he answered.

"A close friend of mine works there. I...help out at times."

Isaac felt like he could feel his stomach acid sloshing around. He was so uncomfortable. So confused.

Nora looked like she had something to say, but Isaac cut her off.

"Excuse me, but do you have a bathroom?"

He stood up as he asked, relieved that the fingers didn't follow.

Nora stood up as well and directed him to the bathroom.

Inside, Isaac leaned over the toilet. He felt nauseous. Really he was just completely abashed.

What had just happened? Why was it so hard to just move his leg away?

Isaac felt stupid.

He wasn't even sure that it had happened. It could have just been his mind playing tricks on him. None of those 'touches' had even had pressure behind them. Was he making this up? Was he just nervous and this as how his body responded to that? By giving him this creepy crawly sensation?

Maybe his leg had just fallen asleep and it was just the 'pins and needles' feeling of misfired nerves?

Isaac flushed the toilet in case anyone was listening and turned on the sink so they wouldn't think he was unsanitary. He did actually wash his hands since they had some taco grease on them.

He walked back out and stopped in front of the table saying, "Dinner was really good. I really enjoyed meeting you all, but I think I should head home. It's a long walk."

His heart fell when Mrs. Jennings stood up with a pleading, "Oh please stay! At least for dessert? I made rhubarb pie!"

She looked at him with these big brown eyes that reminded him a lot of Scott.

"I really should go..."

"Just a quick slice?"

"Come on Isaac. You haven't lived til you've tasted my Nora's rhubarb pie!"

Isaac wanted to protest, but was lead back to his seat by Mrs. Jennings.

"I'll go get it, you just sit right here."

He sat down, angling his legs to the right out of paranoia, but there was no tapping this time.

Paul's wife came back with dessert and it smelled delicious. Still, Isaac couldn't relax enough to really enjoy it.

Paul's right hand was still out of sight. Isaac was expecting Paul's fingers to come back at any moment.

But they didn't.

The conversation remained mostly between husband and wife now, Nora talking about her first grade class she taught. When she asked Paul about his day, he went on about how great practice had gone and how well Isaac had done. Isaac smiled out of politeness, but really he just wanted to go home: his nerves were frayed.

Paul went on to talk about his co workers and even mentioned Mr. Harris and what a tool he was. He told his wife how he had to beg and get down on his knees just to get Isaac out of detention.

That's not how Isaac remembered it. Not that he could _say_ that. Coach didn't even know he had been listening.

When he finished his fable, he turned to Isaac with a joking smile and pointing finger, "You owe me big time for that one, sport."

Isaac didn't even fake a laugh this time. All signs pointed to Paul joking, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he meant what he said.

...

Isaac helped clean up after dinner. He offered to wash the dishes and was actually happy that they let him. It was something he used to do after having dinner with his dad and the familiarity of the process calmed his nerves some.

Paul and the kids went in the living room to watch TV before bed and Mrs. Jennings stayed in the kitchen to help clean up.

"So Isaac, how are you holding up? I hear you've had a rough year."

It was nice, the way Nora asked, like she wasn't full of pity for him, but just curious to know how he was dealing.

"Oh, I'm fine. I've found some new friends this year who have been...helping me out."

Nora frowned a bit at that.

"Is this the "Derek" I've heard about?"

Isaac was annoyed. Sure, Derek was difficult, but he had opened his door to him. Hell, he'd given him all this new power and trained him too. He wasn't always sunshine and rainbows, and he wasn't always around, but he tried and that was more than any other adult had done for Isaac.

"He's not that bad. He's just had a hard life, that's all."

Nora didn't look convinced so Isaac tried again.

"And he's not my only friend. I've got a good friend, the one that works with Dr. Deaton, who has been helping me out a lot too. His names Scott. He's great."

Isaac smiled when he talked about Scott. In his whole life, he'd never really had a best friend, but he thought maybe, Scott could become that for him. He knew _he_ would never be Scott's best friend, he had Stiles for that, but you didn't have to be someone's best friend in order to have them be yours, did you?

"Scott McCall? Oh he's a good kid! He gives Windsor his flea shots when we go to the vet. He was so good with him. You would have thought he was his owner!"

Isaac laughed, "Yeah, that sounds like Scott."

The two of them finished up the dishes with Nora reminding Isaac that he could come by any time he wanted, or needed, anything.

...

Isaac entered the living room to say his goodbyes.

But when he said he was going, Paul stood up, his eyebrows furrowed.

" You don't mean you're gonna walk all the way home in the dark, do you?"

"I'm almost 17. I think I can handle a little walk in the dark."

Isaac rolled his eyes. He was used to walking alone at night with the number of times his dad had thrown him out.

"We can't let you do that, honey. There are some real sketch balls out there, Isaac. Would you like us to drive you?"

"No that's-"

"Come on Isaac, we can take my car."

Coach Paul grabbed his keys from his pocket and didn't wait for Isaac to follow as he made his way to the garage.

...

Paul opened the passenger side door to his 1976 silver Camaro. Isaac climbed in. He wasn't sure he liked Paul, but he definitely like his car.

He took a deep breath through his nose, and it smelled nostalgic for some reason which was odd because he was pretty sure he would remember being in a car like this: it was awesome.

Paul scooted into the driver's seat saying, "So, how do you like my baby?"

He raised his eyes at Isaac.

"She's beautiful ain't she? You probably don't remember, but your dad and I used to cart you and Camden around in this beauty all the time when you were kids. You loved it!"

Isaac tried to remember this, but the minute he thought he might recall something his head throbbed like it had been slammed into the dashboard.

Isaac groaned and hunched over in his seat, pushing his forehead into the heel of his hands.

"Woah, you okay champ?" Paul put a comforting hand on Isaac's back.

"I'm-uhhhg." Isaac tried to sit back up, but any movement of his head caused another battering ram to slam into his brain.

"Here, open the glove department. There should be some medicine in there."

Isaac did as he was instructed, finding the bottle and downing a couple pills.

He stayed hunched over, waiting for the medicine to take effect.

He could feel Paul's hand rubbing slow circles into his back.

He wanted to flinch away, but at the same time, lean into the warmth it was spreading. He could hear Paul's low voice soothing his frazzled mind.

"You're fine. It's gonna be okay pal. Just breathe."

How long had it been since someone had said something like that to him?

Slowly, he sat up. His head protested, but not too forcefully.

"Thanks coach. I think uh... I think I'll be fine once the medicine kicks in."

"You sure, Isaac? You look a bit pale. Maybe if we just drove around for a while...that used to calm you down when you were little ya know. If you were crying or had hurt yourself while messing around with your brother we would just go for a ride and that always seemed to cheer you up. Do you remember that?"

Isaac couldn't remember anything. He couldn't even think. His head throbbed again as if threatening to split open.

Paul started the car and Isaac felt immediately nauseous at the sound.

Not wanting to make a mess in Paul's beloved car, Isaac threw open the door and dropped down to the garage floor.

He was burning. He felt like all the acid in his stomach was rising through his body, trying to escape through every pore.

He dry heaved, his stomach contracting in bursts, but nothing coming up.

Every lurch came with another stabbing pain to his head.

He could vaguely hear Paul closing the car door and making his way over to him.

Isaac tried to stand up and quell the anxiety that was so desperately trying to expel itself from his body.

"I'm fine. I'm fine I just..." Isaac lost his train of thought.

What was he doing? He felt like something important was happening but what?

"Isaac? Isaac!?"

Paul's worried voice rang in his ears as he felt himself falling back words and his vision blacked out.

...

_He was in a car._

_His brother was next to him trying to sing along with the radio, unsuccessfully._

_"Where are we going?" He asked, bouncing lightly in the backseat._

_"Shut up Isaac, we're almost there okay?" His father turned around in the passenger to talk to him._

_"Now be quiet or I'll tell your brother how you still sleep with that ratty little blanket of yours."_

_His father turned around and Isaac lowered his head, embarrassed._

_He could hear his brother next to him, laughing._

_"It's not funny Camden!" He hissed at his older brother._

_"Wah, it's not funny Camden!" His brother mocked him pretending to cry._

_"Shut it!" He reached out to shove his brother, but was too slow and Camden caught his jaw with his fist first._

_They scuffled for a bit, not really doing much damage with their small hands._

_"Shut up. Both of you. Or I'll come back there and make you, ya hear?"_

_Mr. Lahey wasn't fooling around._

_"Yes sir." The boys said in unison, spending the rest of the ride in silence._

_"Alright we're here." The man in the driver's seat spoke up for the first time._

_Isaac looked out the window, but didn't see much besides a lot of trees and dirt._

_The man parked the car and Isaac watched as he and his father got out and talked in front of the car._

_"What are they saying?" Isaac asked his older brother._

_"I don't know. Just shut up...and do whatever they want okay?"_

_Camden had a strange look on his face and he wouldn't look Isaac in the eyes._

_"What? Why?"_

_Isaac tilted his head, confused._

_"Just shut up! They're coming!" Camden whispered angrily._

_Isaac waited for his dad to tell him to get out of the car and did so, his brother following behind him._

_"Alright. Who wants to do a job for Daddy?"_

_Isaac shot his hand up in the air. There was no way he was gonna let his brother show him up. He was gonna do this and his dad was gonna be so proud that today he would call Isaac his 'favorite little boy' like he'd heard him say to Camden too many times._

_"Isaac, thank you for volunteering. Okay boy," his dad squatted down in front of him and told him what to do, " All I need you to do is lie down over there on the ground and stay very quiet, okay?"_

_"But its all dirty..."_

_He protested._

_"Isaac." His dad gave him a look that said 'do it or else'._

_Isaac reluctantly did as he was ordered._

_"Alright Camden, you know what to do?"_

_Isaac watched his brother nod and run back to the car and felt a bolt of jealousy strike through him._

_"I thought this was my job?" Isaac stated, indignant._

_"You're job is to lay there and be quiet. Now shut it."_

_Isaac frowned. So much for doing a good job and being dad's favorite._

_Camden reappeared from behind the car, holding a camcorder. It wasn't theirs though. Theirs was gray and this one was black._

_"Whose is that?" Isaac asked._

_"Jesus kid, I told you to shut up! Do you need a whuppin or what?"_

_Isaac shook his head and rolled his lips over his teeth. He most certainly did NOT want 'a whuppin'._

_"Good." He looked on, curious as his father walked up to the guy who had been driving and talked to him in a hushed voice._

_He wanted to ask Cam what was happening, but he didn't want to get in any more trouble so he kept his trap shut._

_After a few minutes his dad came back and looked down at him from above._

_"Isaac, I want you to do whatever Paul wants. No buts. No fighting. Just do it."_

_Paul?_

_Isaac was confused until he remembered that that was jut Mr. Jennings' other name. Oh! Had he been the one driving? He remembered Mr. Jennings. He was friends with his dad. They watched sports and yelled at the TV together._

_Isaac waited on the ground as his dad crouched down by his brother, probably telling him what to do too. Before he stood back up, Mr. Jennings -Paul- approached them and said, "I'm ready when you are." Isaac stayed put as his dad gave Paul and Camden a slight nod and the three of them headed over to him._

_"Alright sport, lets see what you got." Paul bent down and leaned over him. His breath was hot and smelled._

_Isaac tried to turn his head away, but Paul reached a hand up to his face and moved it back into place, holding it steady, but not too tight._

_Isaac looked to his dad. He was a little nervous. He wanted to know what was going on, what he was supposed to do, but no one was saying anything and his dad just kept his eyes on Camden holding that black camcorder._

_"Isaac?" Paul's voice was deeper then his dads. Softer too._

_"This might feel a little funny at first, but you're gonna like it, okay?"_

_Isaac's eyes widened as Paul broke the space between them, putting his mouth over his own. _

_Isaac kept his mouth shut. He was so confused._

_Paul's mouth was wet and it tickled slightly, but not in a funny way. In like a 'bug crawling up your arm' way. Isaac was finding it difficult to breathe through only his nose. Paul kept exhaling his nose breath in his face, making that the only air Isaac inhaled. He didn't like this at all._

_And then he felt Paul's hands. The one that had previously been holding his face had slid down and under his shirt. The other one was between his legs._

_Isaac opened his mouth in shock, forgetting that it was currently being eaten by Paul's. He regretted that move instantly as he felt Paul stick his wet tongue inside._

_Isaac wanted to tell him that he didn't think Paul was supposed to have his hand where it was, but his mouth was useless as it was. Isaac tried to push him_ _off, beating his little hands against the chest hovering over him._

_Nothing. Paul didn't budge._

_Isaac didn't like this. He didn't want to be the one doing the job anymore._

_Feeling desperate he began thrashing his body, every which way he could._

_Bad Idea._

_Moving wasn't helping, in fact, Isaac thought it was making things worse._

_Paul started moving his hand along with Isaac's body and it was making him feel..._

_Well he wasn't sure. He had never felt anything like this before._

_It was starting to get hard for him to think._

_Isaac knew that getting dizzy was normal if you weren't getting enough air, but he wasn't so sure that 'dizzy' was how he felt._

_He stopped moving. If he was running out of air, he shouldn't waste his energy thrashing around. And really, he was starting to feel too feverish to keep fighting._

_Was he sick?_

_Maybe that was it._

_Hadn't Paul said he would like this?_

_Paul kept touching him, making it harder for Isaac to concentrate. Was he sweating? Because he felt like he was on fire. _

_But now he was shivering._

_Was he cold?_

_Paul took his mouth away for a minute and Isaac gulped in some much needed air. Before he could finish catching his breath though, Paul had turned his attention to Isaac's jeans. Hastily, he undid the snap-button and unzipped his pants, pushing them down so that the waistband was at Isaac's knees._

_"I...I don't... feel so good ...can we-" Isaac's breathy request was shot down before he finished._

_"God Dammit Isaac! Shut up! " Mr. Lahey stormed over and Isaac bit his lip, scared. He looked up at his dad. He looked like a giant from Isaac's position on the ground._

_"Listen son," he filled the word with spite, "you said you wanted to do this, remember? I asked and you raised your scrawny little hand in the air so fast ya nearly fell over, ya freakin dumbass. It's one thing to be stupid boy, but its another to be a liar. Are you a liar, boy?"_

_Isaac shook his head. _

_He had seen what happened to Cam when he was caught in a lie._

_"Then do the job you said you'd do, and be quiet about it."_

_Isaac was embarrassed. He had failed, and he just knew he was gonna hear about it later. If not from his dad then from his brother. They just loved to tell him how he was a moron._

_"You okay champ?" _

_Isaac lifted his head to look Mr. Jennings in the face and whispered, "I'm scared."_

_Paul ruffled his hair and said, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle. You'll like this part, I promise kiddo. Just hold onto my hair okay? It'll make you feel better." _

_Isaac nodded and curled his fingers into Paul's short black hair._

_"There ya go, good job! Now just hold on okay, this is the best part."_

_Isaac was about to ask 'what was so great about it' when all at once he couldn't_ _speak. He could only feel._

_He felt warmth spreading from Paul's mouth to his body in pulsating little waves of heat. He could feel Paul's tongue on him, in a place that he never would have even thought of putting a tongue before. It was moving in circles and it was bumpy and wet, but spongy and soft too. Most of all he felt this pressure in his lower belly. It felt like someone had just filled him with bricks and just kept stacking. And not just normal bricks: Flaming bricks. Because he wasn't just warm now, he was uncomfortably overheated to the point that he thought he might explode. _

_And then he did explode. _

_Or at least it felt like that._

_His whole body seized up, his hands holding onto Paul's hair so tightly he thought he might rip it out. He could hear himself making these strangled wheezing sounds, but he couldn't control them._

_It was terrifying._

_And what was more scary, was there was a part of Isaac that had liked the feeling._

_He tucked that thought away though. You weren't supposed to enjoy things that were scary...and hurt...were you? He never liked it when his dad was angry and that was always scary and painful._

_Then it was over and he felt...empty...of everything_

_He didn't feel anything anymore._

_He couldn't hear anything except the rush of blood in his ears._

_He didn't even know where he was. _

_He wanted to puke, but he didn't feel sick._

_Isaac's head was swirling, trying to make sense of things that made no sense at all. He felt like his eyes were rolling in the back of his head and he could almost make out the vague shape of someone leaning over him before everything turned black_.

...

Isaac could feel something warm and soft under his head as he came to.

He tried to remember where he was.

He breathed in, and the smell of sawdust and gasoline brought him right back.

The Coach's house. _Right_.

He remembered going in the garage, getting in the car...but then what?

He wracked his brain for an answer but nothing came.

Involuntarily, he groaned.

"Isaac? Isaac are you okay?"

Isaac opened his eyes and was greeted by Paul's furrowed brow.

Seems like he was just as confused as Isaac was.

He tried to sit up, but something was holding his head, keeping him down.

"No no, not yet. We don't need you fallin over on us again. Just lay down and tell us what you remember, sweetie."

Nora. His head was in Nora's lap. Why?

Falling over?

Isaac couldn't remember.

He rubbed his eyes, frustrated, and groaned again when he felt tears on his hands.

_Not again._

"Honey...sweetheart...can you tell us what happened?"

Mrs. Jennings was petting his hair as she spoke in a calming voice.

"No...I'm sorry, " Isaac croaked out, "I can't remember...I can't..."

Isaac rubbed his eyes again, but the tears kept coming.

"Don't work yourself too hard kiddo. Just breathe okay? Just breathe." Paul sounded freaked out. Isaac wanted to tell him that he was fine, these things just happened sometimes, but his mouth was dry and he couldn't focus.

"Why are you cryin Hun? Does somethin hurt? Did you hurt yourself?"

Isaac was still feeling too fuzzy to talk, but he tried.

"I don't...it just happens...yesterday...it just happens..."

"Alright, let's get you in the house. You ain't going anywhere anytime soon that's for sure." Paul picked him up and carried him inside, Nora right behind them. Isaac shut his eyes and let his eyes loll around, too disoriented to care.

Eventually he felt himself being laid out on something soft, and the world slowed its spinning enough that Isaac could open his eyes.

He was alone and in some kind of bedroom, but he could hear Paul and Nora whispering to each other outside.

"...worried that he may have hit his head or somethin. He seems so out of it and...and confused. Oh gosh, what are we gonna do? What if he has a concussion? Paul?"

"I don't know what to tell you Nora. I've seen the kid take harder hits than that on the lacrosse field and just get right back up! I kinda thought he was invincible with the way he recovers so fast in practice. But he just fainted or something and then he was crying and moaning and he seemed like he was having some kind of nightmare maybe? I don't know what to say. He seemed fine, two seconds before and then he was on the ground convulsing or something. Maybe he's just dehydrated? I've seen kids pass out because of severe dehydration before."

Paul and Nora were hushed and frantic, clearly at a loss of what to do.

"I dunno Paul, I feel like we should call someone, but who can we call? The kid has no one! This just doesn't feel right, babe."

Isaac could hear them hug and make their way to the kitchen. His head was still pulsing, but it was clear enough to think now. Maybe his wolf immune system was finally kicking in? Although, shouldn't that have just prevented the whole 'fainting thing' in the first place?

Isaac was worried. This kinda thing has happened before, but this was the first time it had happened outside of his house or the loft. This wasn't good.

He sat up, no longer feeling dizzy, and tried to think up a good excuse to get the hell out of there.

He decided to play along with the 'dehydration' idea and stood up, relieved that his legs seemed back to their regular strength.

He opened the door quietly and walked down the hall slowly. He felt fine now, but he figured it would be weird for the Jennings if he was fully recovered so he put a hand on the wall as if to support himself.

"Oh Isaac you're up? You shouldn't be up!" Nora put her hands to her face and scuttled over to where Isaac was leaning against the counter.

He threw his arms up to say "I'm okay" and she backed off a little, letting him stand on his own.

"I'm sorry for scaring you Mrs. Jennings, Coach. I have a bad habit of not drinking enough water on days where I have to do a lot of physical activity. I think thats why I passed out in the garage." Isaac did his best to look guilty and apologetic instead on fused and frightened like he really was.

They seemed to buy it.

"Oh Isaac, don't worry about us! Here, let me get some water for you."

She pulled a chair out for Isaac to sit in and scurried over to the fridge.

"So we're gonna need a number here kiddo." Paul looked very serious, his eyebrows still scrunched together on his forehead.

"A number for what?" Isaac asked.

"A phone number so we can reach Derek and let him know you're alright. It's almost 9:30. He must be worried sick about you."

Isaac doubted that, but said, "You're right. But I think I should call him. He's gonna wanna hear it from me so he can be sure."

Paul made him drink the water his wife had given him then showed him to the phone which was on the wall in the corner of the kitchen across from the table.

Paul watched him dial the number, then sat down at the table not even trying o hide the fact that he was listening to Isaac's phone call.

Isaac sighed as he listened to Derek's phone ring on the other end. He actually hoped that he wouldn't pick up. He did not want to have to explain what happened to Derek. If he was lucky, Derek would still be away and he could just fake a call on the answering machine.

Luck seemed to be on his side for once as Isaac heard the beep of the answering machine.

He made up a conversation with ease, making sure to pretend reassure Derek that e was alright plenty of times so it seemed like he really cared.

When it seemed like an appropriate amount of time had passed, he hung up the phone and sat back down across from Paul.

"You feelin up to heading home?" Paul asked and Isaac answered a little too fast with "Yes" and tried to play it cool with an added , "I'm just really tired and I think sleeping in my own bed would really help."

Isaac could tell that Nora didn't like the idea of sending back to Derek's at all, but he stood up and headed to the garage before she could suggest that he stay here.

...

They took the van at Mrs. Jenning's request instead of the Camaro.

Paul was quiet during the ride which Isaac thought was uncharacteristic for him. He'd only known him for a short time, but he seemed like a pretty talkative guy. He was just thankful that Paul had turned on the radio to diffuse the tension that was building under their silence.

When they finally pulled onto Derek's street Paul parked the car next to the curb and turned off the music.

"Isaac," Paul's voice was low even though they were the only two in the car.

"I'm really glad you came to visit tonight." Paul didn't look at him when he spoke which struck Isaac as weird. Up until now, he'd been the 'annoyingly direct eye-contact' guy.

"I'm also really glad you're okay too. When you blacked out you uh...you said my name a couple times..."

Isaac didn't know how to respond to this. Should he apologize? He didn't even remember it happening so why should he have to feel bad for something he had no control over.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jennings I-" Isaac was interrupted as Paul finally looked him in the face.

"No, I'm sorry. I thought well...I thought that maybe we could...since you're all grown up now..." Paul was getting more confusing by the second.

"Well, I was worried that what happened in the garage was because of...me."

"What?" Isaac didn't understand at all.

"I thought maybe I had triggered that response somehow by talking about your family and...old times together."

Isaac tried to piece together what it was Paul was getting at.

Did Paul think that he had fainted because his words had made him get too emotional about his dad and his brother? Isaac rolled his eyes at having to play the role of 'consoling victim' again, but he didn't want Paul to think his passing out was because of him.

"No. No, I'm fine Mr. Jennings. You didn't do anything wrong. I was just dehydrated. And Mexican has never really sat well with me."

That was a lie. He loved Mexican. But he just wanted to get in the loft already and he was at the point where he'd say pretty much anything to just end this visit and go to sleep.

"Really? So you were _okay_ with it?"

Paul looked surprised.

"Yes coach, I'm fine. I know you didn't mean anything by it. You just wanted to be friendly." Isaac was getting impatient. He was so close to being able to be home and crash. He just wanted Paul to let him leave already.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, believe me." Paul looked like he was tearing up a bit. Isaac was getting uncomfortable. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with crying people . He didn't even like it when he cried.

"I'm really tired Coach. Can I-" Paul interjected again before Isaac could finish.

"Yeah sure, I'll walk you up." Paul went to get out of the car, but Isaac stopped him with his voice.

"Wait Coach!" He didn't want Paul following up to Derek's just to see that no one was there. And he definitely didn't want him to talk to Derek if he was actually home now.

"Derek is asleep and I don't want to wake him up with too much noise...he has work tomorrow." Ha. Derek. Work. Good one.

"Okay..." Paul looked skeptical at the excuse, but got back behind the wheel.

"Thanks for dinner...and driving me home...see ya tomorrow Coach. Isaac held a hand up to wave goodbye as he opened the passenger door with the other.

Then something weird happened.

Paul took his hand that he'd waved with and _kissed_ it.

"Goodnight Isaac, thanks for coming."

Isaac didn't feel anything as he robotically got out of the car and shut the door.

It wasn't until Paul and his van were out of sight that he reacted.

What the hell was that?

Isaac rubbed the back of his hand on his shirt until it started itching from the friction. He made a face. He was utterly at a loss for why that just happened. Was that even a real thing that people did anymore? He'd only heard about it happening in stories or Disney movies. Was he overanalyzing this? It wasn't like it was his face or anything. But it felt weird. Like it wasn't normal for someone to do that. Maybe this was just something weird that Paul's family did to show that they cared, like how some families kiss each other on the lips?

Isaac shuddered at that too. Weird.

Then he considered his own family and how their way of showing they cared was through bruises and the occasional welt or broken bone. Other people would have looked on and said that was weird. Maybe he was just freaking out because he was so unused to any physical form of appreciation?

Isaac sighed and chose to just forget about it.

He was too tired to care anymore and too spooked by his black out from earlier. Weren't werewolves' bodies supposed to be ultra immune to sickness and stuff?

He would have to ask Derek about it later he decided, and headed up to the loft

to get some freakin sleep.

...

He woke up to silence again: Derek was still gone.

This upset Isaac. He didn't even leave a note or a message or anything.

Isaac actually wondered if maybe he'd gotten into trouble or something.

He was worried.

He would have to ask Scott if he'd heard from him at all.

They had lacrosse in the morning and after school today so it wouldn't be long before Isaac had his answer.

...

Isaac walked to school, wishing he still had his bike. He had ridden it to school since sixth grade, but while Isaac had been a fugitive, someone had stolen his bike from where he kept it locked onto the drainpipe. Everything else in the house had been taken too and Isaac was curious sometimes where it had all gone, but he didn't know who to ask and he thought the answer might just depress him so he stayed ignorant instead.

He arrived at the school in time to see Scott and Stiles pull up in Stilinski's jeep. Isaac nodded his head in greeting to Scott as he walked by, his lacrosse gear strung across his back.

His legs were long enough that it only took him two strides to get in step with them and he took the opportunity to ask Scott his question.

"Hey has Derek talked to you at all recently? Like a phone call or a text message or anything?"

Stiles answered even though the question was directed at his friend.

"Oh yeah, Old Sour Wolf calls me up _all_ the time. Actually, he just snap-chatted this great photo of him in this really cute sundress he was thinking of buying. Wanna see?"

Isaac rolled his eyes at Stiles' sarcasm. He didn't get why every time he tried to talk to Scott, Stilinski had to interrupt just to make fun of him.

Luckily, Scott ignored his friend and gave Isaac a real answer, "Actually yeah, he stopped by the other day to say he was going out of town for a few days, but he didn't say why or where. How come?"

Isaac struggled for a reason, "Just curious that's all. Wanted to know who he told and stuff."

Scott seemed satisfied, but Stiles didn't let it drop, "Oh my god. He didn't even tell you he was leaving, did he? Don't you guys live together? How could he just do that? We are going to have a talk about this when he gets back."

Scott and Isaac looked at Stiles with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Stiles said completely innocent.

"Dude...you're not his mom." Scott laughed at his friend's weird, angry enthusiasm.

Isaac just kept a brow raised. Stiles was unnerving sometimes. He was funny, but also just kind of...off...

They made their way into the locker room to find it packed: they were right on time.

They set to work on getting changed and wiping the sleep from their eyes along with everyone else and were proud when they weren't the last ones on the field.

That title belonged to Jackson today. They had already started laps around the field when Jackson stumbled in looking more tired than ever.

"I guess someones still feelin a little 'ruff ' around the edges, huh? Huh?" Isaac watched Stiles elbow Scott while they ran side by side, waiting for him to acknowledge his joke.

"Yes Stiles, you're very 'punny'." Scott said it like he didn't really believe it, but the smile on his face meant that he was joking.

Isaac ran in the back today. He easily could have been at the forefront, and usually was when it came to running, but he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself today. He was kind of hoping to avoid Paul as much as he could after last night. He didn't like this 'blacking out thing'. It was weird. And it made him feel helpless.

And that was the reason he'd asked Derek for the bite in the just place: to stop being helpless.

Isaac's thoughts were pushed out of his mind as someone bumped into him.

"Watch it, freak." Jackson gave him an incredulous look as if he couldn't believe Isaac could have the nerve to touch him.

Isaac scowled, pissed off, "You hit me asshole, not the other way around. Watch yourself."

Jackson didn't quit.

"Maybe you should just stay out of my way." Jackson sped up as he retorted, but Isaac was faster than he was.

He matched Jackson's pace with ease and smirked when he saw his nostrils flare in frustration.

"Or what, Whittemore?"

"Or I'll punch your nose into your skull, Lahey." They were running at full speed now, passing people left and right until there was non one next to them.

"_You're_ gonna hit _me_? I'd like to see you try, hot shot." Isaac wasn't afraid of Jackson. He was too emotional when he fought. He knew he could take him, easily.

Jackson just laughed though, a heartless wheeze, and said, " You're right, I shouldn't hit you. You'd probably like that too much wouldn't you? Little daddy's boy can't get enough bruises now with no one around to kick his ass anymore, is that it Isaac? Do you want me to-"

Isaac pounced on him. He wrapped his hands around his throat, sitting on Jackson's chest.

_"I'm gonna kill you."_ Isaac growled through teeth that felt too sharp to be normal. And he had every intention of doing so. Jackson's face was turning purple and his twisted smile was gone from his lips, open and reaching for air.

"Isaac!?"

Isaac kept his hands around Jackson's throat.

"ISAAC!" Isaac turned around and saw Scott, bolting towards him. He turned back to Jackson and realization hit him like a rush of cold water.

He let go of Jackson, recoiling away from his body as if he had been the one being chocked, not the other way around.

Through gasps he heard Jackson whisper, "Fuckin freak, what the fuck?"

Isaac didn't care. He was too concerned with how easily he had snapped.

He felt stupid. He was supposed to have control over his emotions. His anger especially.

Shit.

_Shit shit shit._

"Isaac are you okay? What happened?" Scott kneeled down on the ground next to him, worry in his eyes.

"I dunno I just...he was saying stuff...about my dad and..." Isaac hated how shakey his voice sounded. He was weak.

"Isaac," Scott sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, "you can't let him get to you. It's what he wants. He was trying to get a rise out of you."

Just then, Coach Paul stomped over, done checking on Jackson. He looked livid.

Isaac flopped backwards onto the ground looking up at the sky.

He fucked up.

He fucked up _so hard_.

...

"You can't choke people." Paul was pacing back and forth behind Finstock's desk, trying very hard not to yell. There were still kids changing from practice in the locker rooms next door after all.

"I don't care what he said. How many jokes he made about your mom or your girlfriend or your grandma. You can't choke people, Isaac. You _can't_."

Isaac tried not to roll his eyes from his position on the couch. For the first time since meeting him, he could see how Paul and Finstock could be friends.

"I'm sure he deserved it, at least a little bit of it, but you just can't do that kind of shit. And at _school_? What were you thinking? _Were_ you thinking?"

Paul sat down on the edge of the desk and put his head in his hand.

"I lost control okay. I already said I was sorry. Can you just give me my punishment and let me leave now?" Isaac was more mad at himself than anything else, but Paul was an easy target for his anger. Authority always was.

"It's not that simple Isaac. I have to report this to the office and the guidance councilor and Bobby and then they have to decide what to do with you. You'll get suspended for this. Maybe even expelled! And maybe you should be! Ugh! Why did you have to choke him!?" Paul was sweating, the effort of restraining his anger showing through the beads of perspiration cling to the color of his shirt.

"So what if I get suspended? Does it even matter? Why do you care anyway?"

Isaac was being immature, but he didn't give a shit anymore. He felt like he was spiraling into deterioration, fast, and there was no way, no one, to stop it.

"Why do I care? You're not that stupid are you? Use your brain Isaac! Think! My job is to watch you little shits so you don't run around doing shitty things. I turn my head for a freaking nanosecond and all of a sudden you're killing each other! That kid could have died, Isaac. On my watch, he could have died. Did you know his dad is a lawyer? He could sue the living shit out of me! Maybe you don't have a family to worry about, but I do! And I need this job so I can take care of them." Paul was heaving, his shoulders moving up and down with his shallow breaths.

Isaac was losing his will to stay angry. He just wanted to sleep. He was too exhausted for any of this. He just wanted to not feel for a while. To not _be_.

He knew Paul was just mad, and that's why he was yelling, but as he stood there, his face getting redder and angrier and his words getting sharper and meaner, Isaac could finally see how Paul could have been friends with his dad too.

His brain was throbbing again. It felt like someone was trying to saw through the back of his eyeballs. Like they had grabbed onto them with fully extended claws and were trying to push them out of his face.

Isaac squeezed them shut, covering them with his hands. His head was leaning back against the wall as he tried to pray to any almighty being that might give a shit.

_Please just let me sleep_

_Make it stop_

_Please_

_I'll do anything_

_Please_

Paul was done yelling now. Isaac still had his hands over his eyes and didn't see him sit down on the couch next to him.

"Isaac."

Isaac couldn't hear anything but his rapid internal pleas.

"Isaac." Paul pulled Isaac's hands away from his eyes.

"Isaac, I'm sorry."

Isaac looked back at him blankly. He hadn't let go of his wrists, but the pressure seemed to lessen the searing pain in his head so he didn't say anything.

"I didn't mean it all, I was just mad. That's all. Are you okay?"

Isaac didn't feel up to lying. "My head hurts."

Paul got up and searched through his bag for some ibuprofen, handing it to him when he found it along with a water bottle.

Isaac took six and downed the water bottle in one go.

Maybe he had been dehydrated yesterday.

"There. Is that any better?" Paul sat back down next to Isaac, placing an arm across his back, rubbing up and down his arm slowly, "We don't need you passing out like last night."

Isaac nodded. The drugs and water seemed to be dampening his headache quickly which was a relief. They didn't do too much for his mood though. He felt very small suddenly. He wanted to curl up under his bed and hide from the world like he would when he was younger.

Paul moved his hand up to Isaac's hair and guided his head to rest on his chest.

"It's gotta be hard to be alone kiddo. Your mom, your brother, your dad: gone. I can't imagine how lonely that feels. The youngest of the family left alone to fend for yourself. It's gotta be hard."

Isaac felt his anger coming back. This wasn't rage though. It was slower and more painful. There was no adrenaline rush. He just wanted cry. He wanted to cry and push Paul away because he wasn't supposed to say those things. They were true, but he wasn't supposed to say them. He was supposed to say things like "toughen up" or "quit crying". He was supposed to get mad and yell and punch and kick and lock him in he freezer until he couldn't feel his joints and his fingernails had cracked from futile attempts for freedom.

But he wasn't doing that. He was being understanding. He was holding him, stroking his hair. Letting him cry into his shirt, no doubt getting snot and tears all over it.

They stayed like that for a bit longer before Paul sat him back up, his hands on Isaac's shoulders, his face only arms length away.

"You're a pretty cryer you know that?" Paul touched the side of Isaac's face, using his thumb to wipe away some loose tears.

Isaac turned away, embarrassed. His father would've kicked his face in if he'd heard that one.

"No really. You look very...boyish."

Isaac blushed again, frowning. He was almost 17. He wasn't supposed to be boyish anymore.

Paul held Isaac's face with both hands.

Isaac tried to move away, but Paul steadied his grip.

"Don't be ashamed. Everyone cries. I cry. I'd bet a million dollars that Whittemore brat cries more than the two of us combined."

Isaac couldn't help but smirk at that.

Paul took his smile as invitation, leaning forward to kiss Isaac's forehead. He searched Isaac's eyes. He looked nervous.

Paul leaned in again and Isaac flinched.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm just trying to show you. You're not alone Isaac."

Isaac was conflicted. He was grateful for Paul's support, but...he didn't feel right. Something about this was making his stomach clench. But Paul had been really nice. He was the nicest adult he'd ever talked to. And he was definitely the only one who cared.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear his father.

_"Nothin comes for free in this greedy world. If you take you give. If you give you take. There are consequences for every choice and a price for every award."_

Was this his consequence though? Or his reward.

Paul had given him comfort. Isaac owed him. He still owed him for getting him out of detention with Harris too.

It was Paul's turn to take now.

But Isaac didn't want to give.

He'd never kissed anyone before. He didn't want his first one to be out of obligation because he'd fucked up and shown how weak he really was.

Isaac was mad at himself.

There was no way around it.

It was just a kiss anyway, right?

"Man up" his father would say, "Stop whining and just do your job."

It didn't mean anything. It was just how the world worked.

He'd had an entire internal struggle in the span of a second. Now Paul was leaning in to get his reward and Isaac was still uncertain.

Every instinct he had wanted him to run, but his brain told him it was only fair: you owe him.

Deciding time was over. Paul was getting closer.

Their faces were mere inches apart when Paul whispered, "Lets see if you still got it kiddo."

Isaac froze. Paul kept going, his mouth on top of Isaac's now.

_ "Lets see if you still got it kiddo."_

What?

Images flashed behind Isaac's closed eyelids as Paul continued to kiss him.

He was little. The car. The video camera. His brother. His dad. Paul.

_Paul_.

Images of what he had done scrolled through his brain in fast forward. Multiple times , multiple places. Always the same black camcorder and the same guy on top of him.

_Paul_.

"Hey, what's the problem champ?

Isaac clicked back to reality and pushed Paul away from him, knocking himself to the ground in the process.

He crabwalked backwards until he was against the wall as far as he could go.

"_You_...when I was little..."

"Yeah, we used to do this all the time. You always liked it back then. What's the problem now?"

Isaac's jaw dropped in awe. Did he really not see what was wrong here!?

"What's the problem!? What's the PROBLEM!?" Isaac was disgusted. With Paul as well as himself. How could he have been so stupid. He was just going to let it all happen again.

"Hey, keep your voice down kiddo." Paul looked nervously at the door.

"You _used_ me. I was 9 and you fucking...you recorded it. You had my brother record while you...while we..." Isaac pushed his hands into his head, trying to stop the plethora of old memories that had so suddenly appeared, from spilling out of his mind and onto he floor for everyone to see.

"Hey, your dad brought him along, not me." Paul held his hands up as if he was innocent.

"My dad? You wanna bring _him_ into this? _Really_? Did you know what he did to us when he wasn't selling us to the highest bidder? He kicked the living shit out of us. He locked me in a freezer for hours- a whole day once! You _knew_ didn't you? You KNEW and you did NOTHING! If you _cared_ so much how come you couldn't take us home with you after you zipped your pants back up?"

"I swear I didn't know, I swear!"

"Gawd, I really am a moron. Thinking you gave a shit about me because my father died. You were just happy you didn't have to pay to _fuck_ me anymore."

Isaac was crying. He was crying because he remembered everything. He remembered every nightmare. He remembered all the blackouts. All the reasons he had never talked about sex to anyone. The reason why when in seventh grade and kids started asking him out he cried and wondered why so many people wanted to hurt him.

It all made sense now.

It all made sense and it all hurt.

He was broken. Irreparably broken.

"I _hate you._" Isaac was crying and his voice was muted by the build up of mucus in his throat, but he had never meant those words more.

And it wasn't just Paul he as talking to.

It was his dad, his mom, his brother, Derek, Erica, Boyd; they had all left him. They abandoned him, leaving him alone to deal with this shit-hole of a life he had fallen into.

Most of all, he hated himself. He was weaker than he'd ever imagined. He'd let these people use him and then leave him. He hadn't once yelled at them. He'd never told them no. He did whatever they wanted and then he sat back and let them leave him. How pathetic do you have to be to consciously let people trample every tiny bit of self respect or dignity you owned until it was gone. Completely vanished.

How had he let himself come to this. This self hating monster.

His wallowing was cut short by Paul.

"Isaac. Please...please don't tell anyone. I'm begging you. _Please_."

He really was begging, on his knees and everything.

Isaac stood up and dried the rest of his tears with his shirt sleeve. "You said it yourself Paul, I'm totally alone. I don't have anyone to tell, even if I wanted to."

Isaac was about to open the door, when the knob turned.

Isaac's heart dropped.

No. No one heard that. _Please_ say no one heard that.

"You're not alone, Isaac. You've got me."

Scott stood in the doorway, eyes red, but face dry. Behind him Stiles wasn't having as much success in that department. He'd never seen Stiles look so serious before. It was almost funny. Actually it was kinda funny.

Isaac let out a quiet chuckle. He sounded hysterical, but he didn't care. He wasn't alone. _He wasn't alone_.

Scott walked over to Paul, who was still kneeling on the tile, pulled his fist back and broke his nose with one fast punch.

"Let's go Isaac." Isaac followed Scott out of the locker room, Stiles right behind them. They didn't stop walking until they got to the parking lot in front of Stiles' jeep.

"What do you say guys, should we really skip school today? Isn't it a bit too nice out to not be stuck in a muggy classroom?" Stiles twirled his keys around on his index finger.

Scott smiled, " I think I could handle some fresh air and warm breezes."

"Isaac? What say you my good man?" Stiles laughed at his own silliness.

"Me? I've been suspended. Technically, I shouldn't even be on school grounds!" Isaac smirked.

As they drove off, the whole day ahead of them, Isaac felt lighter. He wasn't happy yet. More like, slightly less than awful. But he had taken a step in the right direction.

Maybe eventually, he'd be happy.

For now though, slightly less than awful was beginning to feel more like okay with every breath.

...

**Authors note**: Thanks for reading guys. I'm thinking of writing a companion piece to this in which Isaac confronts Derek about stuff and is told that he actually _asked_ to have these memories blocked with that weird alpha trick. Thoughts?


	2. AN: Companion Piece is up!

**Author' Note**:

So, I _did_ write a companion piece to this.

Guess what it's called!?

...

**Companion**

****...get it? Eh? Eh?

Yeah, just ignore me.

Feel free to check out the story though, it's not nearly as long as this one and its a lot less feelsy.


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